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I'll be publishing poetry here

Five am

Glasgow never really slept last night.

She just wound down to pauses of silence

drunken shouts and the squeal of bus brakes.

Then the big engines of the morning roar,

searching out the first footfalls of dawn

to sweep them up and carry them on.

Without meaning or purpose to life.

we accelerate hard away from the light.

A toilet flushes, then another. The clink

of cups, rushing showers, clip of doors.

People brushing along the corridors.

Some to breakfast, some to cars, and some

to early morning bars. I long to dress

and like feather on a breeze blow away.

[1] Published Your One Phone call june 21 july 5 2015

[2] Published Stares Nest 8th April 2015

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